The goblin looked over the table, satisfied with his efforts. A couple of hours toiling away had yielded several baked goods, honey buns, cakes, and pastries of the sweet and savory variety. It felt good working with his hands and distracted him from his literary taste.

  One of the guards had informed him through one of the sentinels that the queen was on her way, so he set out posthaste to make the tasty treats to make her happy. He watched eagerly through the multitude of watchers hidden in all the crevices and cracks of the library and smiled as he finally saw her and her entourage arriving.

  Of course Gideon, Theoden, and Jomead were by her side, but there were several new figures as well. As they entered the main section of the library, Isolde turned to the new individuals. “Go explore the library’s contents.” They looked amongst themselves but eventually settled into the task as they saw the queen hadn’t even broken her stride as she proceeded into the restricted section.

  Armand went and took his seat, and just in time as the quartet entered the room. “Welcome, we have much to discuss but please indulge in your special request.” The goblin spoke, directing the first part to the group and the second to Isolde in particular.

  “And you satisfied said request in abundance,” she replied as he sat and grabbed a slice of cake. “Now what is the meaning of this meeting? The message you sent implied a certain gravity.”

  “Indeed, we have a couple of things to discuss.” The goblin waved for the other human, dwarf, and elf to find a seat. Once they had done so, he began again, “There are several individuals seeking to unravel the boundary between worlds and, in turn, destroy all of human civilization, and we have been enlisted to stop them!”

  “You really need to work on your delivery…” Theoden was rubbing his temples; it was too early for such heavy news.

  “Perhaps we should discuss how we can help in this scenario.” Gideon asked, trying to bring the derailed conversation back on track.

  “Of course, of course.” The goblin waved his hand. “There is a group know as the Order of Returning; their goal is to remove the barrier between dimensions. Have any of you all heard of any whispers of such an organization across the land?”

  “Frankly… No…” Jomead bluntly replied, “Such a group wouldn’t make it far in the open.”

  “Other than the traditional devil worshipers, nothing was new.” Stated Isolde, “We try to quell such things where we can.” The statement got Armand thinking and he sent the knight construct to find Thoth in the meantime.

  “Do these devil-worshipping cults practice soul-related magics?” The goblin inquired as he confirmed the information he suspected with his familiar.

  “Yes, they are seemingly attracted to anything that violates the natural law.” Gideon said with a major sense of gravity, unintentionally glancing at Theoden and Armand.

  “Well, I am assuming the Order of Return is behind these events. The reason devil worship is forbidden is because it would allow a devil to escape hell and enter mythos. From my understanding, that is where the magic spell that separates the dimensions resides.”

  “Mythos and Hell?” Jomead scratched his head; this was clearly outside of his understanding.

  “Yes, two of the planes of existence, one containing the demons and the other the gods.” Armand shared his current understanding: “Becoming a god requires faith energy and a sufficiently strong soul to house that faith.”

  “So anyone can become a god?” Asked Gideon.

  “In theory, yes…” He could speak of this from personal experience. “That is besides the point; you need to begin hunting down these parties quickly.”

  “We always have done so.” Jomead said after he sipped deeply from his cup, “How is this any different?”

  “If angels, demons, and elementals are worried, we are clearly not doing enough.” Armand bluntly countered. “Additionally, I need your assistance in transporting one of my library doors.”

  “A much more manageable task.” Isolde commented, “Speaking of, I have been wanting to install more doorways throughout the kingdom, so do you have any to spare?”

  “How many do you need?” The goblin replied with a smile. Their meeting ended with a small armada of soldiers grunting as they hauled enough doors to equip a whole palace.

  The goodbye was brief, but it quickly left Armand alone again. He was told it would be a few weeks till the door made its way to Cassian at the coastal city, but more should be popping up by the day.

  This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  While he was worried about the security risk of having so many accessible doorways to his space, he was excited because more doors meant more mana. More mana meant more projects, constructs, and summons, so the detriments were overshadowed by the benefits.

  Besides, he and Cassian had come up with a plan for the layout to ensure safety and profitability for this endeavor. Bored with nothing to do and unable to consume his usual amounts of vast knowledge, the goblin set himself to work as best as he could.

  He meticulously decorated the passages, carving murals from many of the stories he read, some mythological, some accurate. After all, he had seen several deities at this point and they were forever burned into his mind and heart.

  The distraction soothed him; creating things didn’t seem to interfere with the composition of his soul so he played around crafting all the different weapons he read about, the scythes of hell and angelic spears, and he even created a large pillar, supposedly a weapon used by titanic elementals as their battle instrument.

  Every so often a new door would appear, all of them congregated in a series of circular hubs that were connected to the main entrance. Some were even layered like floors. First it was one, then another, and soon several floors of veritable towers of doors came into existence.

  The goblin hadn’t really realized it but it had been years. Of course Isolde, Gideon, Theoden, Jomead, and Cassian came by and broke up the monotony, but in the end he would become reabsorbed by his work, seeking the blissful distraction from the itching panic in the back of his mind every time he saw the flicker of a soul in his dungeon core.

  Every day he looked at the silver patch in his soul, which was originally the size of a coin and had grown, slowly engulfing the purple. Before he even knew it, his soul had reached critical mass.

  He breathed out, a breath that he had been holding for twenty-three years. Twenty-three long years, short according to Uriel but long for him. Even he couldn’t believe the passage of time, but the new creases upon his face belied the severity of time’s flight.

  The library's collection had grown, as the many doors, with guests from all over the kingdom and some even beyond it, were individuals seeking knowledge and power. It taunted him, the ever-expanding library without the ability to read en masse, but that would end soon.

  “Only one thing left to do…”: The goblin prepared the special ritual he designed long ago for this moment as he tried to summon Isolde. A few days passed with no response; even the usual guards were not posted at the door. This was unlike her; she had regularly come to visit over the years and he did not believe she was the type to give him the cold shoulder.

  He had intended to leave through the doorway to the forest of death, but he changed his plan and had the knight construct take its place at the door to the palace library. He drew the soul clone from the construct, or rather, his true clone; that was a more accurate description.

  Armand could feel the pull of the ancient magics, attempting to violently pull his soul to Mythos; if he did not progress with the ritual now, his whole being would be pulled into the realm of the gods.

  “This is going to hurt,” was all the goblin could say as he cleaved his soul in twain. Separating the two halves of silver and purple, the draw on the silver soul was so great he nearly lost grip of it given the excruciating pain, but he didn’t let that distract him as, with the last vestiges of consciousness, he shoved the true soul clone into the gaping hole of the silver soul. At the same time, he rapidly sealed Silver Soul and his own with purified soul fragments.

  He then released his grip and let the faith-infused portion of his soul be pulled away. The goblin collapsed to the ground; the job of his original body was done. Now for the tricky part.

  As the silver soul flew by, two sentinels pushed the soulless knight to construct the gateway to the royal library. Armand did have to take a moment a guide the silver soul towards the right doorway; apparently each door was trying to grab the soul but for this he needed it to go to the right place.

  The silver soul rapidly arrived at the doorway and stopped momentarily. "The moment of truth," thought the goblin, as the soul looked like an egg being forced down a piece of straw. Space distorted around the doorway until finally the soul made its way through the barrier between dimensions.

  The sensation was quite like how Theoden suggested; it was like trying to communicate to someone deep in water but it was there. No time to get distracted; it was time for the second part of his plan.

  Once outside, he activated a spell that he carved into the silver portion of his soul; it was a mimicry of the soul-severing magic. Now that it had escaped the dungeon, it had to release the precious cargo within.

  The silver soul split once again, and from it came the true soul clone. Armand then let go of his connection to the silver soul and allowed it to be dragged to Mythos. He refocused his attention on the soul clone; he activated one of the many spells he had engraved upon the soul’s surface, this one being the observer magic.

  This allowed him a view of the outside world for the first time since becoming entwined with the dungeon. He couldn’t help but take a momentary pause and appreciate the light pouring into the room and illuminating the many books resting upon glossy wood shelves.

  But the newly freed soul began to feel a pull, so Armand had to act fast, locking his vision on the motionless knight construct currently surrounded by several individuals holding spears positioned threateningly towards it.

  Souls would normally be pulled to their respective afterlife upon death if their vessel was destroyed; luckily, Armand’s vessel of choice was not in such a condition.

  He quickly flew into the metal construct and the magic runework began to glow as the shiny metal reflected the faint purple light emitted from the magic circles within.

  Armand had done it; he had made it out of the dungeon.